


The Long Way Home

by GraceCale



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Adoption, Father - Son Relationships, Fix - It Fic, Foster Care, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre - Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-07-11 03:07:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15963407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GraceCale/pseuds/GraceCale
Summary: The thing is Steve had tried to talk Nahele into going to a group home. He needed school and regular meals and somewhere to sleep.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to @bgharison for reviewing this fic and helping me iron it out and for encouraging me to write it! This is my first ever fic, so my apologies if it stinks.
> 
> I don't own anything. No copyright infringement meant. 
> 
> I'm expecting this to be a five - chapter fic and will upload as regularly as possible.
> 
> I'm @GraceFire on Tumblr.

Steve took to having Nahele in his life with an ease that didn’t surprise anyone that knew him well. Suddenly, Nahele was everywhere they were. Not just at Kamekona’s, but at team dinners and games of catch and while surfing. Steve saw nothing of it. Nahele was helping him fix the car, so he was around anyways. 

And because Steve couldn’t talk Nahele into going back into a group home, Steve just kept him around. Nahele could use the structure until something permanent came along and Steve — according to Danno — needed to take care of the broken toys he found along the way. 

The thing is Steve had tried to talk Nahele into going to a group home. He needed school and regular meals and somewhere to sleep. But he wasn’t okay with the group homes and he wouldn’t stick around in them once placed. Too many times had Steve wandered into the garage only to find Nahele still too thin, fast asleep, and curled up uncomfortably in the backseat of the Mercury Marquis, smudged dirt on his chest and the new clothes that Steve had had Pua purchase for him tattered and dirty. 

“Hey Nahele, wake up,” Steve lay his hand on Nahele’s head and rubbed his thumb along his furled eyebrows. “Come on, sleep inside. The car isn’t the best place for you to be sleeping.”

Nahele stumbled out of the car. Half - asleep, his 5 - 9 frame was about as graceful as a newborn foal. 

“Hey, watch your head,” Steve chided. The teenager couldn’t even keep his eyes open. Steve considered talking to Kamekona to see if he might be willing to lessen or change Nahele hours. If Steve got his way and got him enrolled into Kukui High in time for the new school year he would have to stop working so much anyways. 

Steve marched Nahele up to his father’s old room. It would be musty but Steve kept it clean and it would be far more comfortable to sleep in than the thin leather seats had been. 

“Bathroom is through there. Extra toothbrushes are under the sink. Extra blankets in the closet outside,” Steve said.

Nahele nodded mutely and fell backwards onto the bed. Not three weeks ago Nahele had stolen the car downstairs and stripped it for parts. Now he was being allowed to sleep in the house and had an open invitation to stop by anytime. It was enough to make his head spin.

“Good night. When you wake up in the morning, we’ll talk some more. You can’t keep sleeping on the street. For now, just rest.” By the time Steve made it the few feet back to the door, Nahele was asleep and already snoring lightly. 

“Sleep tight, Nahele.”

Steve made his way to the couch downstairs. It was not actually that late outside, so an evening run to help take the edge off of the day was a possibility, but Steve found himself reticent to leave. The few times that Nahele had stayed over he had woken from pretty atrocious nightmares. Not that Nahele had opened up to Steve at all, but the choked - off screaming and the unwillingness to go back to bed spoke for itself. 

No, for tonight, Steve was on guard duty. He settled in with a book and waited. 

Sure enough, a few hours later Steve heard Nahele stir. Tossing the book aside and taking the stairs two at a time, Steve opened the bedroom door with a bang. 

Nahele was still tossing - and - turning. “Nahele, kid, wake up. Come on. You’re okay. Just breathe. Good, you’re doing great. Just keep breathing,” Steve mumbled. Nahele huddled into Steve’s shirt. He wasn’t crying but his shoulders shook and his breath hitched. 

“It’s still early. You want to try going back to sleep?”

Nahele shook his head. “No, I’m good. I slept. I think I just want to take a walk or something.”

“No, it’s too late to take a walk. Let’s go downstairs. Late night TV sucks, but I’ll make sandwiches and we can talk.”

Steve got off the edge of the bed and put his hand out, pulling the 15 - year old up by the wrist. 

A turkey sandwich and half - a - dozen infomercials had Nahele out, sprawled along the couch, and Steve awake in the recliner. 

Steve couldn’t get Nahele to speak to him. The teenager had run away from two group homes just in the three weeks they had known each other. Steve flipped through his text messages. It was 5am. Nobody would respond, but he needed to speak to someone. 

Hey Danno. Sorry for the late night text. I know it’s your weekend with Gracie, but if you have a minute, can you give me a call? Nothing urgent. 

Steve’s finger hovered over the send button. Making the decision, he clicked it and then shoved the phone to the side. 

Steve’s experience with kids was --- limited --- to say the least. Gracie and Joanie. What did he know about raising a teenage boy? One with a penchant for running away, at that? Still the thought had curled itself into his brain. Nahele needed a home and a support structure. And Steve had a home, one with more than enough room for Nahele, and a family that would have no problem being the support that Nahele needed. Steve would talk it out with Danny and his team in the morning, then bring it up with the teenager. He closed his eyes for a second and wondered whether or not this was the right thing to do.


	2. Chapter 2

Steve took a moment to add a tablespoon of butter to his coffee and stirred it half - heartedly. He had barely gotten an hour of sleep after falling asleep around 5:30am. He had woken to Nahele sneaking out the front door. Where was the kid was going before his work shift that evening Steve didn’t know. He had considered going after Nahele, but it was obvious to Steve that the kid appreciated the opportunities being given but was also overwhelmed. A two - mile swim did had done nothing to assuage the tension in Steve’s shoulders and the stress radiating up his spine. 

“Yo, Steven, I’m not actually just talking for my health,” a loud voice interrupted Steve’s thoughts. 

“Danny, sorry, I was...I was daydreaming, I guess,” Steve muttered. 

“Aha,” Danny grabbed an apple from the bowl on the island, threw it into the air a few times, and jumped onto the kitchen counter, legs swinging underneath him. 

“So what is it?” 

Steve paused, inhaling the steam from the cup of coffee. “You’re my best friend.”

“Yes, I know this. Get to the point please.”

“I found Nahele sleeping in my car again last night. I’ve tried to tell him to just come into the house, but I don’t know. Plus he’s having nightmares and God knows where he went when he left this morning. I don’t know what he needs, but I think I know what I need, but I don’t know how to be a father and I need you to tell me — honestly — if you think I should not. Not try and adopt him.”

Steve paused to take a sip of the now tepid coffee. He looked to the floor and toed the tile grout, a surprising nervous tendency that Danny knew would only show up in front of those Steve trusted most. 

Steve spoke up again. “I think I need to talk to Nahele too. I don’t know. He’s not willing to be here when awake and he won’t tell me about the nightmares and I worry that he doesn’t trust me enough, yet, for this. I don’t want him to run, again, and have him lose this safe place, because I…” he trailed off. 

“You’re an idiot Steven.”

Steve’s head shot up. 

“You have already basically adopted the kid. Making it official, giving the kid a roof, mentoring him, you were made for that and God knows, he will want that. I wouldn’t be surprised that he keeps running because he knows that what’s best for him and what he wants is here” Danny said, a smile slowly stretching across his face. Steve’s existence had been too lonely since Catherine left. Steve needed this as much as Nahele did, even if he didn’t know it yet.

“Thank you Danny. I don’t know if I know how to be a dad. I didn’t really have enough time with my Dad. But you’re the best father I know, so your approval, well, that means something,” Steve smiled at Danny and drank the rest of his coffee, grabbing a couple boiled eggs and some diced mango from the fridge for a quick bite. 

“Health nut,” Danny mumbled. “Once we head to the office, you should reach out to Child Services. I’m not 100% sure what Hawaii’s adoption requirements are, but you have a stable home and a stable job and a support system, so I think you would match. Plus, you already are mentoring Nahele and you already got him off the streets -”

“Can’t keep him off the streets,” Steve interjected. 

Danny hopped off the counter and pointed at Steve. “Stop it. Stop discounting yourself. We’re doing this. The kid needs a home and, Steve, you need this too, I know. We’ll call Ellie when we get to the office. And I’ll research what licenses and class you need to take and you will take them, do you understand me.”

It wasn’t a question, Steve knew. 

“We can clear out your guest room this weekend. That way he has his own space. I’m thinking blue walls because you’re both crazy surfer types.” Danny grabbed a peppermint patty from the freezer and moved to stand next to Steve who was washing his breakfast plate in the sink. 

“So, I talk to the kid today. I call Ellie at the office. I’ll reach out to Child Services,” Steve listed.   
Danny knocked his shoulder onto Steve’s upper arm. “I’m with you buddy, ok? This is a we- thing.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The thing is Steve had tried to talk Nahele into going to a group home. He needed school and regular meals and somewhere to sleep. But he wasn’t okay with the group homes and he wouldn’t stick around in them once placed. Too many times had Steve wandered into the garage only to find Nahele still too thin, fast asleep, and curled up uncomfortably in the backseat of the Mercury Marquis, smudged dirt on his chest and the new clothes that Steve had had Pua purchase for him tattered and dirty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not beta-ed. Does not accurately represent HI's foster care system. Does not accurately represent car maintenance. Not mine.

Steve placed the grocery bags down on the front lanai and pushed the key into the lock. His team had been able to spend the day in the office, catching up on paperwork and playing clean-up, after what felt like weeks of non-stop fieldwork. Steve’s kitchen was not yet nearing empty, but with Nahele over more-and-more (though Steve rarely got him to accept a meal) and Danny over more often than not and quite happy to raid his fridge, Steve figured it was a good idea to take the surprise freetime to restock. 

Steve had spent the morning on the phone with Ellie, the Department of Human Services, and Nahele’s social worker. The process would take weeks to go through, attending childcare classes and getting approved, but Ellie thought Steve’s request to foster Nahele (and, eventually, adopt him if his father agreed to sign over parental rights) would likely be approved. Danny had been right. Though single, he had a good job, a stable income, a solid support system, and it had been years since he had been involved in special ops. 

Steve put the groceries down on the kitchen counter and headed to the garage. “Hey Kid,” Steve greeted Nahele, tousling his hair as he walked by. “What have you been up to?”

Nahele flashed a smile in Steve’s direction; grease all over the right side of his face. “Just fixing the crack in the windshield wiper reservoir. It’s just an easy fix. I hope that’s okay. I didn’t have to go under the car; I know you don’t like me to do that without you here.”

“That’s fine Nahele. But, listen, you don’t need to come here just to work on the car. Did you eat anything today?” 

Nahele nodded his head. “I grabbed a banana from the kitchen. I hope that’s okay.”

Steve sighed, “We need to talk kiddo.”

“I can pay you back,” Nahele’s eyes flashed with worry. “I’m sorry.”

Steve shook his head, “No, kid, help yourself to whatever you want. In fact, why don’t you come inside and get washed up and then you can help me make a quick dinner. We can talk over dinner. Nothing’s wrong. You’re not in trouble. Everything’s okay.”

Nahele was quiet and Steve realized that he was scaring the kid, more than comforting him. 

“Okay, that’s fine. But I don’t need to eat, we can just talk now if you want. It sounds important.” 

“Nope, Nahele, it can wait. Go grab a shower; you know where everything is. Grab a change of clothes from the stuff we got you last week; they are in the dresser in dad’s old room, your room, and then come downstairs. I have to put away the groceries and make a few calls.”

Nahele nodded and began cleaning up the workspace in the garage alongside Steve who grabbed the few odds-and-ends from Nahele’s hand and gently pushed the kid in the direction of the house. 

Nahele stopped at the door. “Steve, are you sure everything okay?”

“Yeah, kid, I promise, everything’s great. It’s good stuff we got to talk about.”

Once Steve heard the shower turn on, Steve pulled out his phone and texted Danny. 

“Going to talk to Nahele about fostering him over dinner tonight.” 

Steve realized he was actually quite nervous. He put away the groceries, more to have something to do with his hands, and puttered around cleaning things that were already clean. With Nahele around so much (and Gracie too), Steve had had to re-organize his life a little bit. The readily-available weapons were locked up, the kitchen was overly stocked, and his dining room table had become a sort of pseudo-desk. Nahele was not enrolled in school, but Steve had put together a sort-of starter curriculum for him, to help him prepare for his hopeful transition back to school. And when Gracie visited with Danno, the dining room table also served as her desk. 

Steve pulled out steaks and sweet potatoes, marinating the sweet potato and washing the sweet potatoes before wrapping them in tin foil and placing them in the oven. The steak he would cook on the grill outside. He figured Nahele could put together a quick salad too. 

Steve was so deep in thought that it took Nahele coughing loudly behind his shoulder to get his attention. 

“Sorry, kid, I was daydreaming.”

“It’s okay, but are you okay?” The kid was biting his lip and Steve realized that the shower had only given the kid more time to worry.”

“I’m okay Kid, just distracted. Put together a quick salad will you, while I get started on the steaks? We can eat out by the water, if that’s okay?”

Nahele nodded and began gathering salad stuff from the fridge. 

“How was your day?”

“It was okay, kid. Quiet, thankfully. The last few weeks have been mad. You?”

“It was okay, worked in the afternoon for Kamekona. I made good tips. Ugh, the bike that you lent me got stolen. I know I need to pay you back for that. If that’s what you wanted to talk to me about.”

“No, but, more importantly, are you okay? What happened?”

“I was heading to work and I got jumped. It was either take the bike or I thought they were going to beat me up, so I gave it to them and ran. That’s why I was late for work; I thought maybe Kamekona had told you, but I wasn’t sure, because you didn’t seem angry at all and then you said it was good news, but --- .”

“Of course, I’m not angry. As long as you’re okay. It’s just a thing. We’ll file a report first thing in the morning and go out and get you another one. Plus, I want to know exactly where it was stolen so I can catch whoever did that.”

“Of course,” Nahele nodded his head emphatically.

“Actually, kid, what I wanted to talk to you about is good news, but it’s also complicated. I was going to wait for dinner, but maybe now is better. Thing is kid, I worry about you a lot and I’ve grown really fond of you. But I’m also worried. Too often I’m finding you asleep in the car or having not eaten anything and you need a school and a bed and to be able to worry about normal teenage things, you’re whole life is ahead of you. I wanted to ask you something and you can say no, but I really want you to think about it okay. I talked with your social worker today and she says that because you keep running from group homes and foster homes, they’re having even more trouble placing you. And your dad still has quite a bit of time left on his sentence,” Steve paused and took a breath, letting the nerves shake out, “I want to become a foster parent, kid and I want to foster you. I want this to be your home and I want to be a dad, your dad.”


End file.
